


Didn't Mean to Sleep on You

by TWSLAC



Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-12
Updated: 2015-07-16
Packaged: 2018-03-01 04:15:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2759306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TWSLAC/pseuds/TWSLAC
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a series of one-shots dictating the many times the Inquisitor accidentally fell asleep on the various members of his company. Very alike to my other series, "Didn't Mean to Turn You On".</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Cullen

**Author's Note:**

> This Inquisitor is the same as the one in DMTTYO, Male human Rogue with cerulean eyes and dark brown short hair. Don't have to read anything chronologically, but might make more sense occasionally.

The war council had an unspoken, yet highly restricted access list at any given time due to the importance of what went on within. The only members allowed in council with no invitation were the Inquisitor, Cullen, Josephine and Leliana. This of course meant that the remaining members of the Inner Circle had to be briefed on decisions and the resultant actions of the Inquisition. As a result, every time the war council met and a major decision was made, a meeting was called between the Inner Circle and other specific members of the Inquisition who were required. This meeting was called in the Great Hall, resulting in its closure throughout the meeting. Chairs were pulled from the tables and placed in semicircles surrounding the Inquisitor's throne. Whoever had the floor at the time stood in front of the throne and then swapped places in the chairs with their replacement.

Recently the Inquisitor and the Inner Circle had remained within Skyhold due to the sheer amount of paperwork the Inquisitor had been given. Diplomatic and trading scaffolds, weapon schematics, requests for supplies from everyone and spying missions were all sent to the Inquisitor for approval, rejection and response. The Inquisitor however, was not the sort to enjoy staying cooped up in the same place for very long, and was keen to leave Skyhold for some other journey or quest. The only problem was the paperwork. At the beginning of every week all of the previous week's reports, requests and letters were sent to his desk. While delegation was always an option, more often than not the Inquisitor would singlehandedly spend two or three days and nights straight finishing these up so he could spend the remainder of his week out of Skyhold. This also meant that during this period of time he was often very, very tired.

A war council had been completed, and the Inner Circle and a few others were meeting in the Great Hall. Leliana was finishing the meeting with scout reports and more than a few participants of the meeting were ready to get out of their seats and leave, Commander Cullen being one of those. He had a new training regime to design for the Templars and Grey Wardens, and had been planning it throughout the entire meeting. He had been so deep in his thoughts he barely noticed when a light pressure suddenly fell on his shoulder. Cullen turned his head in a barely concealed jerk of surprise at the touch, hand twitching automatically to his weapon. His eyes widened in astonishment when he noticed the Inquisitor's head was the pressure on his shoulder. The Inquisitor was twisted awkwardly to the side, his body lax and his arms hanging limply to his sides. His neck bent uncomfortably as his head rested on Cullen's shoulder adornments. Cullen froze slightly, unwilling to move in case he woke the Inquisitor up, or sent him crashing to the ground. Cullen heard a loud scoff from in front of him and carefully lifted his head up. Everyone in the room had turned in their seats to stare at him. Most if not all had grins or smiles on their faces as they watched the extremely awkward Cullen.

"What?" He questioned in a harsh whisper. More laughter greeted his question. His body tensed slightly in annoyance, causing the Inquisitor the slip forward slightly, his head falling from Cullen's shoulder. Cullen jerked, arms reached out to prevent the Inquisitor from falling to the floor. The Inquisitor was now barely sitting in his chair, his body held tightly to Cullen's chest and his face buried in Cullen's neck. Cullen flushed at the new and much more awkward position, especially when Dorian actually fell off his chair from laughing too hard. The others began to climb to their feet, dragging their chairs back to the tables they originated from, the meeting finally over. Cullen glanced around, trying to find someone to help him with the Inquisitor.

"Cassandra?" He asked, eyes pleading. Cassandra shook her head with a small smile.

"I've got… something… to do." She responded with a small laugh, the lie falling haltingly past her lips.

"Varric?" He asked the dwarf as he walked past, voice becoming desperate. The dwarf shrugged.

"He's just finished the paperwork run right?" Varric asked. "Just let him sleep on you for a bit. Won't hurt either of you." He finished, leaving Cullen and the Inquisitor alone. Cullen heard the Hall's doors closing behind him with a strange sense of finality. He sighed.

"You couldn't have fallen asleep on someone else?" He murmured grouchily, settling himself into a more comfortable position.

"Cassandra and Varric are going to pay so very dearly for this one."


	2. Cole

Many people seemed to forget that being the Inquisitor didn't just mean influence, power and fame. It also meant responsibility, decisions no-one else wants to do and danger. The one thing above all else seem to forget to relate to the Inquisitor was assassinations. No one person could have as high a position as the Inquisitor without having multitudes of threats towards their life. However, due to the constant efforts of Leliana and Cullen, the Inquisitor was rarely in any danger at Skyhold. The road was a completely different matter. It was a well-known fact that the Inquisitor travelled with only ever a maximum of nine other people. Three mages, three warriors and three rogues. As a result, many of the Inquisition's enemies found the perfect time to strike the Inquisitor when he was adventuring and question. Another thing people also forgot was the Inquisitor was only one of the extremely talented fighters within that group of ten. Any force less than fifty well-trained soldiers would barely make a dent in the shield that was the Inner Circle. There was always the rare occasion when someone would come extraordinarily prepared and the fight would become too close for comfort. At those times, the Inquisitor had the ability to use his mark in battle, quickly evening the odds. Due to this strategy and the sheer strength of the group, it was rare that anyone got seriously injured, let alone the Inquisitor.

This was a different case. The enemy were professionals; seventy trained warriors, at least ten full-fledged mages and a smattering of assassins. Even with the Inquisitor's mark being used twice throughout the entirety of the battle, the Inquisition were barely scraping by. Varric and Dorian were already out of the conflict, hidden far off to the side with incapacitating injuries, and Iron Bull was consistently gaining more wounds in his attempts to act as the Inquisitor's personal shield. The Inquisitor himself was faring far better than the remainder of his companions, full aware that it was only so due to their own self-sacrificing natures in regards to his safety. What they seemed to forget however, even though it had been proved numerous times was that he had a self-sacrificial streak collectively greater than all theirs. Consequently, it really shouldn't have come as such a surprise that as Solas was taking out the very last of their enemy, an archer, when the archer fired one final shot straight at Cole's chest the Inquisitor dove on the Spirit, saving him from an almost certainly fatal wound. The arrow had instead lodged into the Inquisitor's side, arrowhead embedded deeply into his waist, studded shaft sticking out his back.

The field had gone eerily silent, all movement stilled for a few second as the Inquisitor lay sprawled on top of Cole, momentarily unconscious from the shock and pain. It was only Cole's frantic cries that broke them out of their stunned motionlessness.

"Pain, it hurts! Hurt! What happened? Hurts! Cole! Hurts!" Blackwall was the first to reach the duo, carefully pulling the Inquisitor's torso off Cole's struggling body. The Inquisitor's head tilted towards Cole, hazy eyes wandering slightly in his attempt to look at Cole. He started to speak slowly, slurring his words slightly.

"Didn't mean to… fall asleep on… you…"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be completely honest, this fic was supposed to be Cassandra's and was also supposed to end slightly differently. I don't even know what happened but whatever.


	3. Dorian

It wasn’t often that the Inquisitor shared a tent with Dorian, especially after the numerous incidents in which the Inquisitor’s clothes would be set on fire or go missing, however it still occurred. The Inquisitor had been extremely edgy for most of the night. Not even letting Dorian in the tent until he was well and truly ready to sleep, changing and wrapping under his blankets. After all previous events he wasn’t taking any chances. Dorian had been disappointed of course, however accepted defeat as graciously as Dorian could. The Inquisitor was well known to be a somewhat restless sleeper; however it had never really been a problem. Until now.

In the middle of the night, the Inquisitor had rolled over, stretching his arms. However, his and Dorian’s bed rolls were spread out a lot closer than usual, resulting in a now very awake Dorian staring at the still very asleep Inquisitor who was spread out on top of him. Dorian was quiet for a moment, and very still. Then, he grinned.  
The rest of the company were woken up in the middle of the night by very loud, very aggressive shouting.

“Dorian!”

“What? You’re the one that slept on me!”

“That doesn’t mean I want you to grope me!”

Loud laughter could be heard from the shared tent, and most members of the Circle poked their heads out of their tents to see the proceedings. Dorian swept out of the tent, armed with his staff, completely shirtless and still laughing. He was closely followed by a knife.

“Dorian! Get back here!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short one, I know. But I didn't feel that this one needed to be drawn out. Hope you enjoyed


End file.
